


Welcome to the Show

by gravitation (orphan_account)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Alternate Universe - Thieves, BAMF Stiles, Drug Addiction, Drug Dealing, Kate is a bitch, Lock Picking, M/M, No Werewolves, Pickpockets, Prison, Prostitution, hooker!Stiles, innocent!Derek, ive decided, mysteries ~, thief!Stiles, what are tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:43:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/gravitation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is a lot of things. He’s a hooker and a convict, but more than anything he’s a thief.<br/>Derek is a lot of things too. He’s a father and a fiancé, but more than anything, he’s innocent.<br/>So yeah, befriending Stiles while in prison was kind of his best option.</p><p>Or the one where everyone's a convict <em>except</em> Derek. Go figure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this will work for me bc im really digging it so far  
> I will be updating Mondays if this works out
> 
> ALSO: While this fic might seem OOC for Derek, in this AU he is still somewhat oblivious to Kate and his whole situation, and he's very out of his element. Just a reminder, im trying to portray him in a way I think he'd have been before the fire.

Upon arriving at prison with an unnecessary police escort, Derek wasn’t so much apprehensive as he was pissed off.

Only because of Kate’s silence in his trial was Derek actually incarcerated by the state, because he honestly had a witness who saw that he hadn’t actually set his own house on fire. But he knew he’d never actually hold it against her, since they were engaged and such. He convinced himself she was just scared into silence.

The whole ordeal was quite overwhelming in itself.

But now, as he was entering the main building of The California Correctional Center, or the CCC, he was beginning to worry not only for his to-be-spouse and daughter, but himself as well.

Derek wasn’t stupid. He knew there were people here who came in and out of psychotic breaks frequently, and he knew he wasn’t capable of fully protecting himself any more than these prisoners. If he really planned to be here ten years, he needed to find the right people. There had to be a sort of government system to prison and all, or at least he assumed.

So that was the only reason he ever considered approaching the least-intimidating person in prison ever, after he’d laid low for an entire week, just watching and trying to understand it all.

The guy was just looming around everywhere unnoticed, much like Derek had been the past days, and he looked like more of a quiet one to be honest. Approaching him was simple but getting him to talk might prove to be challenging.

Derek slid into the empty picnic bench seat next to the broad-shouldered boy, glancing subtly over at him. The guy took him by surprise when he spoke before Derek couldn’t even think of what to say.

“You want to know how things work around here, don’t try to be subtle.” He mumbled, obviously annoyed by Derek even considering sitting by him for the reason mentioned.

“You’re Boyd, I know that much.” Derek tried, but the look he was given was sketchy, he knew it wasn’t going to help the idea that Derek, or anyone, only talked to Boyd when they needed information on other inmates.

“Yeah, well, come on… if you really want to know.” Boyd said abruptly, standing up and obviously flicking the stitched name over his heart of the required navy jumpsuit. Derek felt guilty in the moment, knowing his means of knowing names had been hardly subtle. But he couldn’t bring himself to show it. Prison wasn’t the place to apologize for anything.

The two walked from the near-empty cafeteria towards one of the doors at the end of a hall Derek had never dared to walk. He couldn’t open a door without knowing what was on the other side, he decided a few days earlier.

But walking behind Boyd he felt slightly less exposed than if he were only himself.

Derek raised a hand to his eyes, shielding them from the sunlight that shown in from the door Boyd was swinging open, revealing a courtyard floored with concrete and surrounded by barbed wire fencing.

No one already outside even turned to look at them though, a few of the more active ones were playing a violent game of basketball while others just sought out time to themselves in the fresh air.

“If you want to top the system here, pay attention, alright? It’s not all it looks to be though, you’re much safer being invisible.” Boyd admitted, but safety wasn’t what Derek was looking for. He needed to befriend the ones who’d get him the knowledge to get him out, and Boyd wasn’t high up enough in the ranks to know what Derek needed.

Boyd sighed, glancing around before finding a place to start. “Everyone in here has lied about something, so nothing is guaranteed to be true. Anyway…” he glanced around the open courtyard, pointing a quick finger over to a table full of skinny, younger men. “Over there you’ve got the shortcomers, who’ll probably be out of here in a few years. Mostly arrested for possession of drugs, ya know, dumb stuff.”

Derek wasn’t sure how drug possession was considered dumb, but he wasn’t about to protest. “Scott McCall and Isaac Lahey are around most often. They’re nice enough, no real skills though.”

Derek turned to look at him, surprised, and Boyd looked back at him with an offending look. “What, I’m not an idiot, Hale. You’re looking for the smart ones who’ll tell you all the shit.” He didn’t look impressed.

“Come on, I’ll show you the high risks since you really want them.” Boyd moved away towards the chain linked fence without another word, pointedly looking through the metal fence over to the female side of the facility, separated by 15 feet of barbed wire.

Derek’s attention immediately shifted to a group of three scowling girls, sprawled out their own ways across a picnic table.

“Allison, Erica, and Lydia. They’re the shit over on that side, Lydia’s the smart one while Erica is your typical alpha female. Allison, though, she’s-“

“Why didn’t Kate tell me Allison was here...” Derek wondered aloud, catching Boyd’s attention if for a moment. Having your niece in the same prison your fiancé was going to wasn’t something you generally kept quiet about.

“Yeah, okay…” Boyd began watching the confused look sit on Derek's face for a while longer before moving on and pointedly deciding it didn’t matter, whatever was wrong.

“If you want a fix, Danny’s our pharmacist. He can get you anything you want within the week, I’ve heard he worked the streets for a while but he got arrested for some illegal computer shit. Hacked the White House’s security system or something stupid on a bet.”

Derek pulled his eyes away from the Argent to look at the tanned, well-built man leaning on the fence. He was young, but then again so was everyone here. Much younger than

Derek had expected, but maybe they grew up in the system anyway.

He found himself looking over towards the table Boyd had directed as the lower risk inmates when an outburst of laughter rang out. He assumed it was abnormal for emotions to be on such a display out in the courtyard with only a dozen guards to save you from being shanked, but most of the faces looked up for only a second before resuming their previous attentions.

Derek couldn’t stop looking though. The kid was just that, a _kid_ really. But he sat on the picnic table, hunched over in laughter with one of the low risks (Scott?). The boy was loud and seemed to command all attention on him, he was the most vibrant person he’d seen in 168 hours and maybe even before.

“Stiles Stilinski,” he heard Boyd say, and Derek turned his attention back to him. Boyd was looking skeptically over at the table, as if he didn’t trust that their laughter was real. “He was arrested for prostitution but after some investigation it turns out he’s a thief too. Sheriff’s kid, go figure,” Boyd said tiredly, as if he’d had to explain this person’s life out to everyone he’d ever met. Like an old friend, except Boyd hadn’t ever talked to the kid save for a minute or two.

“He’s been in and out more times than anyone here, sometimes he doesn’t even get released. He just disappears for a few days,” Boyd paused, facing showing his distaste as Isaac pushed the kid clear off the picnic table, only for the kid to burst into another fit of laughter, “He always comes back though, idiot kid.”

“You’re serious?” Derek asks skeptically, because the kid looks like he just showed up from high school. His hair’s a mess just an inch too long and sticking up in every direction. Sharp brown eyes and pale skin and he’s all legs. Loud, sarcastic, and ultimately harmless.

“Obviously. He’ll blow you for a day’s worth of your food too.”


	2. Convictions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive decided that Derek is no longer a werewolf  
> mostly bc I forgot about that storyline when I was writing this chapter  
> whoops

Boyd had to all but drag Derek away from looking back at Stiles as the kid commanded the low risk table. It wasn’t a fond look though, that Derek couldn’t seem to fend off. Confusion and interest and judgment flickered on and off in waves when Stiles’ too-loud laughter echoed across the courtyard. Needless to say Boyd ended his tour on a rapid note.

Derek remembered hearing about a set of twins and a pretty boy Jackson but even then those were conversations he barely registered himself attending. If the childish convict would’ve kept an indoor voice, would Derek actually be satisfied with the information Boyd had given him.

So, as anyone else would’ve done, Derek approached Boyd every day since, sitting next to him and asking him questions in which the underlying meaning did not allude to a heavily-tattooed, obnoxiously noisy kid. It did not. 

“Honestly Hale, just go approach the kid. He’s easy enough to talk to,” Boyd tried, sighing heavily and refusing to look up at Derek, who was getting to be as bad as the girl that asks their guy friend for information about their crush. Honestly.

“He doesn’t seem like the type to keep things quiet. Probably’d run around the courtyard crying pedophile…” Derek mumbled, massaging his temples and trying to smooth out all the stress he’d built up in the last two weeks. Prison really wears on you fast.

Boyd sighed irritably, rolling his eyes. He took a moment of silence, looking somewhere past Derek’s head before focusing his attention back at Derek. His gaze returned twice as intense, almost determined. “What do you even want with Stiles?” Boyd said, pointedly raising his voice. Derek narrowed his eyes at the man curiously, opening his mouth to speak. 

He didn’t get the chance.

“What _do_ you want with Stiles?” he heard behind him.

“I don’t want anyth-“ Derek growled, listening to his own voice die out mid-sentence.

He met with curious, doe brown eyes and a pink smirk. Stiles stood in front of him, shoveling curly fries into his mouth. For the first real moment since his arrival, Derek was intimidated by a pair of arched eyebrows. He swallowed, playing off his uneasiness with a scowl. Obviously the darkened look was effective, because a few people watching the incident immediately spun back around in their seats and forced themselves to look away. Derek was inwardly pleased by the reaction, deciding that scowling his way through prison time was his best bet to get out with all his fingers and limbs intact. The only problem was Stiles, who didn’t seem put off a moment by Derek’s grimace. Damn it.

Stiles thinned his gaze on Derek for a moment, eyes mulling something over before ultimately deciding to sit down across from Derek and Boyd, giving the quieter a nod of acknowledgement. “Anyway…” Stiles moved on, letting Derek have a moment to breathe in relief. 

It didn’t last long.

“So, what’re you in for, Derek?” Stiles questioned blatantly, looking down to his half-empty plate of fries with a pondering look. 

Derek wasn’t the least bit surprised that Stiles knew who he was, if his suspicions of Stiles’ intelligence about what went on were anything to go by. The kid knew everything about anything and it was blatantly obvious.

Derek narrowed his eyes at Stiles, lips turned up in a disgusted way at the greasy fries on his plate. Stiles didn’t seem bothered by the judgmental glares he was receiving, in fact he returned them with practiced ease.

Giving in, Derek cleared his throat quietly, eyes darting away from Stiles altogether. “I’m not in for anything. It was a mistake.” Derek admitted with a shrug, stabbing the crispy chicken on his own plate for lack of a better thing to look at. Obviously glaring at the kid wasn’t going to make him leave, and Derek was sure he couldn’t muster any positive expressions towards him.

Stiles blew out a surprised breath of air and laughed lowly, eyes crinkling in a genuine smile. Derek couldn’t keep himself from looking confused. 

“No one ever tells me the truth, I’m surprised, that’s all.” Stiles answered Derek’s unasked questions, popping another fry into his mouth. 

“And why wouldn’t they?” Derek asked, taking a moment to glance over towards Boyd for moral support in talking to the kid, only to find Boyd had up and left the table entirely. 

“Everyone wants to hang around me because they think I’m going to help them get out,” Stiles starts shamelessly, since everyone knows it’s true anyhow. But the kid’s tone is guilty and almost _sad_ to the point where Derek feels like he should leave because Stiles really _is_ just a kid and he’s probably been taken advantage of (in other ways than sexually, because everyone knows he’s up for that). 

A moment of silence hovered over the room as everyone seemed to be waiting to hear Derek’s response, and the tension between him and Stiles grew thicker with every moment he kept quiet. 

“Well, sorry about that,” Derek put off, trying to come off as casually disinterested, and if the puff of relief coming off of Stiles was anything to go by, he’d survived that test.

“It’s cool, it’s not like I’m innocent anyway. I got myself into the mess in the first place,” Stiles says with a shrug of nonchalance. He goes back to eating his fries as if the past moment hadn’t been so tense and nothing confuses Derek as much as Stiles’ flickering expressions.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what did you even get caught for?” Derek begins, but quickly fixes himself, “I mean, I don’t want to listen to everything I’ve heard, but-“

“Oh God, a lot of things man.” Stiles starts, laughing softly and finishing off his plate before he looks up at the ceiling, trying to recall. Derek arches an eyebrow in confusion, because the kid was all over the place and Derek had no idea what to expect would, at that point, come out of his mouth. 

Stiles lifted a finger, counting off each conviction per finger as he spoke, “I only got caught for some petty theft, but then they started digging around.” He rolled his eyes at that part, as if the thought of someone having to dig around in his things for information on him was unnecessary. Derek suspected that if he were anything like he was now, back then, Stiles was probably very well known.

“Some of my asshole friends sold me out for prostitution and drug trafficking. I got accused of murder because I wouldn’t tell them where the real guy hid the dead body, but seriously I wasn’t about to put the guy in jail.” Stiles rambled off easily, Derek had trouble keeping up. “They matched my DNA and fingerprints to a few armed robberies and open cases back in 2004,” Stiles leaned in closer towards Derek shamelessly, whispering, “Those were my bad years,” he admitted, lips close enough to Derek’s ear that he could feel the kid’s breath down his neck. 

Derek recoiled as soon as he felt it wouldn’t be seen as abnormally fast, he figured he was in too deep with the kid, knowing all his convictions seemed oddly intimate.

The moment lasted no longer than a moment though, before quips and derogatory remarks were tossed into the air. They were all teasing for the most part, but in any other context than prison…they should’ve been insulting.

“Watch out, Hale! He’ll go down on you, right then and there!”

“He’s too easy!”

“Get a room, Stilinski!”

Derek watched the kid’s expression twist into the faintest frown and even Derek felt sorry for the kid…but after everything, he’d gotten himself into the business, hadn’t he?

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone’s a comedian.” Stiles retorted blatantly, giving a convincing laugh. If Derek hadn’t seen the first frown, he would’ve bought it. But it only took a mere moment for even a trace of distaste to disappear and Stiles was up and darting around the cafeteria, putting one of the guys into a headlock.

“You’re just jealous because I wouldn’t go down on you at all,” Stiles teased, tugging at the boy’s hair and laughing too loudly. Derek blushed faintly, eyebrows knitting together as he watched the kid get tackled into the ground. Everyone was laughing and light-hearted, but it was obvious it was still a struggle for dominance.

After a few tumbles around on the cafeteria floor, Stiles had the guy (Jackson?) pinned to the ground with his knees in the guy’s stomach. Derek hadn’t an idea how he managed the strength he had, with the guy being nearly twice as broad as the kid, but apparently everyone had gotten used to it.

He didn’t even hear the security guard come up behind him.

“Stilinski, get off the floor,” the guy said tiredly, “And Hale,” Derek looked up at the mention of his name, and so did everyone else. 

“You’ve got a visitor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really get to what was supposed to happen in this chapter but ill just leave it for next time ;)


	3. Aggravation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry its super late but I don't have an excuse except that I went on vacation two weeks in a row  
> whoops

In spite of everything, seeing Kate and Laura and Phoebe on the other side of the glass was a comfort in itself. Derek was escorted to his seat, the man in uniform reading off the basic rules for how long he’d be able to talk to them or that he was not allowed to touch them, but Derek wasn’t fully listening. He was watching, confused, as Laura held his daughter in her lap and Kate sat furthest from the 2-way telephone, not even looking up. 

Derek had predicted she might be closed off and a bit touchy about the idea that her fiancé was doing time for the next few months, but Kate wasn’t….well, she wasn’t _Kate_. Not the one that Derek knew. He tried a few times before the guard left to get her attention, to make her meet his eyes, but she only continued to stare purposefully at her lap. 

Laura watched the both of them, struggling to hold Phoebe in her lap as she motioned for Derek to pick up the phone just as she did so. 

Derek looked to his sister, moving and picking it up cautiously, holding it to his ear. Laura smiled. “What’s up baby bro? How’s prison?” He couldn’t help but laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners because, hey, Laura was still Laura. It didn’t matter that it was protocol for him to sit behind a thick sheet of bulletproof glass to be allowed to talk, she’d still give him shit.

“Nothing like Peter explained. There’s a distinct lack of psychos,” Derek said, eyes moving down to watch little hands press against the glass in a sort of innocent curiosity. 

Phoebe looked up at her father with a toothy grin, making grabby hands at him through the glass. “Hold you me, Daddy, hold you me.” Derek heard faintly through the phone, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from tearing up, immediately moving his hands to chase them off his cheeks. He laughed sadly, looking to Laura as his sister held the phone to the little girl. She picked it up curiously, parroting Derek and putting it by her ear with a little help.

She squinted a little, frowning, “It’s okay, Daddy. No sad,” she said softly, jutting out her bottom lip in a small pout. Derek rubbed his eyes, drying up what he could before he answered.

“I’m not sad Bug, I just miss you Pheebs,” Derek tried, smiling faintly as he watched her try to process the information.

“Miss you Pheebs!” she echoes with a bright smile before Laura leant down and took up the phone again slowly, making a pointed glance towards her left.

Derek is about the open his mouth to ask when he hears assertive voices turn to shouts. Turning halfway around in his seat to look for the source, one of the guards steps infront of him with a stressful look painting his face. 

“Mr. Hale, I apologize, but we’re going to have to take you back.” The man says, already motioning for Derek to stand. When Derek doesn’t move right away is when he explains himself. 

“There’s been a fight and we need to return everyone back to their cells.”

Derek looks behind him for the commotion, only to find none in sight. He does hear lots of shouting voices though.

Looking back to the three girls, he puts the phone back to his ear. “I’m going to have to go Laura, take care of yourselves, okay?” He says, looking to Phoebe with a sad look.

“Bye, Bug. I’ll see you soon alright?”

“See you soon!” the small girl parrots, waving her tiny fingers as Derek stands and hangs up the phone. He doesn’t miss the hesitant look Laura shoots him, but he watches as Kate pulls her eyes up to look at Derek for the first time. And Derek’s stomach constricts in the most uncomfortable way. Her gaze is piercing and angry and cold in every way that _isn’t_ Kate.

All he can do is swallow though before he is being pulled away and down hall after hall.

He can hear the shouts getting closer and yet dying down as well.

And then the next minute, the guard is stepping ahead of him and a gurney is being wheeled by frantically in front of them. The man’s face is smeared with what must be his own blood, and behind a black eye Derek recognizes him as the guy who Stiles had been tackling to the ground no more than an hour before. 

The idea of Stiles getting into a fight would’ve surprised Derek. The kid was bubbly and loud and sarcastic with a low muscle mass. Or at least he thought. As his guard jerked him forward again, he got a small first glimpse of black and blue splashed onto pale, inked skin. 

Stiles was grinning manically, actually laughing as two of the low risks tried to keep him up on shaky legs. Isaac and Scott struggled to help the kid towards some of the prison guards, who were quite a bit more focused on the other half of the recent chaos. They were almost _catering_ to the kid as he moaned about the pain and whined about his attacker while Stiles was struggling to stand on one leg.

Taking a better look at Stiles while hi escort assessed the situation, Derek first noticed his eyes. One was swollen shut and the other was already darkening black around his eye socket. His knee was cocked at an unnatural angle and he was clutching his right arm to his chest like it might fall off if he let go. He wasn’t missing any teeth that Derek could see, as Stiles was smiling from ear to ear, but the lines between each tooth were crimson red and dripping.

Derek couldn’t help but be angry with Stiles because _hey_ , his family finally came to see him and he only got 5 of 15 minutes to speak with them. But there really wasn’t a thing he could do about it, looking at the kid as his uncolored tattoos filled themselves in with blue and black bruises.

Isaac’s frantic gaze met Derek’s for a moment and Derek could have sworn he’d seen guilt pooling in his eyes, but before he could move forward to ask, his escorting officer was pulling him forward and away from the scene. The last thing he saw was Scott tripping over Stiles’ leg and sending the three of them falling as well.

Derek was hardly sympathetic of Stiles or anyone for that matter, why should he be if the kid was going around throwing and receiving punches for fun? He let out a silent laugh at the almost comical moment before all he was seeing was a brick wall. 

And all of a sudden nothing was really funny anymore.

Sighing briefly, Derek fell back against the cot-like bed of his cell, staring up at white ceilings and listening to the guards file in and out of the hallway. 

“Why did the kid even get involved?”

“Who knows. What I heard from it was Whittemore was throwing punches at McCall and his friend, some remark about sexuality between the two of them had started it I guess.”

“Since when was Stilinski even hanging around with those kids?”

“He’s a hustler, they talk to everybody.”

Derek wasn't upset by this. He _wasn't_.

And he sure as hell wasn't feeling sorry for the kid now.

He _wasn't_.

**Author's Note:**

> you read it, you might as well comment?


End file.
